mENtaL BrEAk
by Vaughn's Jenn
Summary: *4* With SECRET AGENT GIRL. When a young woman is discovered to be the key to the Rambaldi mystery, she is suddenly taken deep into a world that she has nearly forgotten; one filled with mental games and the most complex mystery to ever surface. Rambaldi.
1. Chapter One Jenn

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Mental Break

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Written By **Secret Agent Girl** and **Jennifer** ~

Alternating Chapters

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When a young woman is discovered to be the key to the Rambaldi mystery, she is suddenly taken deep into a world that she has nearly forgotten; one filled with mental games and the most complex mystery to ever surface. She knows it all. If only she could remember.

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Chapter One: Jenn

1.

She shakes with a tremble that reaches all the way down to her bones, one that reverberates her entire insides, sweeps her up and takes control of her entire being. She wishes she could see anything other than blackness, wishes she could hear anything but the constant wracking sound of a train running on a badly made track. 

The wool is itchy around her eyes but her hands are tied behind her back, around the pole, anchoring her to the spot and binding her so tight she knows that this is the kind of pain she will dream about for the rest of her life. It is only intensified by the scratchy darkness and the fear that strangle her.

She clenches her throat, using all her might to push down the terror from ripping through her mouth. She has learned that noise not tolerated. The tears are soaking through the cloth, dripping down her face and onto her knee where they hesitate for a moment before rolling down into her socks.

Every breath she takes shakes and rattles as her chest rises and falls. 

Her legs are asleep and have been for the past hour, pulsating with painful shivers every time she moves.

She is only 25 years old and doesn't know why she is being taken. There have been whispers in her ear, whispers laced with friendliness at times, venom at others. It is a language she can barely understand, barely has enough time to register the words and translate her answers into clumsy English.

She closes her eyes behind the cloth as she anticipates the feel of icy cold fingers descend upon her hair. 

But when they land, they are warm, coaxing. And they come with the voice of a woman speaking an Italian so cultured that all she can do is listen with a relief strong enough so that she almost forgets the fact that she cannot see, that she cannot feel anything except for the nerves in her body humming with rigidity.

She feels herself moving with the beat of the train, feels herself being jostled by the steady bumps on the track. 

"Who are you?" Her voice is feeble and unused, unwilling to speak louder for she has been silencing herself for hours.

The voice answers back immediately, the words measured, showing only a hint of an accent. Its melody lulls her, sweeps her back and forth though it might only be that she's moving herself around. "Someone who is trying to find out who you are."

She is confused. "Why do you want to know who I am? I'm nobody. I don't know what you want and I can tell you that I can't help you. With anything."

"No, Rachele. You have something very valuable."

Her voice becomes frenzied, speeding, spilling over the words of her natural language until her sentences are barely comprehensible. "Take it. Whatever you want. Take it," Her voice breaks. "But please. Please, take me back home."

She tenses as she feels the stroke of a mother's touch on her cheek, smoothing the trembling skin. "I don't think you understand me Rachele. What I want from you is not something you have. It's something you _are_. It's what you have _within_ you that I am interested in."

She shakes her head. "You must be mistaken. I'm nothing, I'm a bastard orphan."

When the woman speaks again, she hears the smile of amusement in her voice. "Tell me who you are."

"Rachele Milia DiCarlo."

The woman shifts closer to her, squats beside this crying girl who has been robbed of her senses.

"Tell me who your mother is."

She doesn't know what to do, what to say to make this stop, to make her life go back to what it used to be. Her sobs are coming through in her answers, tumbling through them, blowing them down. "Francesca DiCarlo."

"Good. Now tell me the truth."

A sudden deep thudding begins in the darkest part of her being. She almost knows what she is supposed to say. She feels as if if she can think about it for a few more minutes, she will say the answer that will set her free. The answer is there inside of her and that is the moment she starts to fear herself.

For she now knows that this is not a mistake. She _does_ know something. She just doesn't know what it is.

She feels the cool, soothing hands on her temples, pressing gently. She feels a sudden peace as if she is sleeping yet still aware of her surroundings. This woman has a magic touch.

"Who are you Rachele? Tell me your name."

There is still a resistance.

"Rachele Milia DiCarlo."

The voice is now a breath. "Your real name."

And the voice that answers is not her own. It comes from years ago…years when she still had a family and a right to a secret.

"Rambaldi."

Her eyes open with wonder as she feels the woman untying the cloth around her eyes, squinting at the too harsh lights of the train. Her eyes focus on the woman in front of her, smiling with some secret victory, inches away from her own face, fingers still at her temples.

"My name is Rachele Milia Rambaldi."

"Good."

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TBC…

All right people, hope that you are thoroughly confused, excited, and eager to read the next chapter which will be written by Secret Agent Girl…the goddess writer of "From Two to Three" and the luverly prequels to that one. 

So review and make us happy.

Deine,

~Jenn

*Becky…would love to write your idea, just e-mail it to me: aliaswriter@hotmail.com


	2. Chapter Two Secret Agent Girl

**Mental Break**

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Written By **Secret Agent Girl** and **Jennifer** ~

Alternating Chapters

_When a young woman is discovered to be the key to the Rambaldi mystery, she is suddenly taken deep into a world that she has nearly forgotten; one filled with mental games and the most complex mystery to ever surface. She knows it all. If only she could remember._

**Chapter Two: Secret Agent Girl (SAG)**

_Quick Jenn-note: OMG you guys are going to love this chapter because I do and it's soooo uber-great. Definite props to Secret Agent Girl…I **SO**__ chose the perfect writing partner!!!!!! (P.S. Also working on another fic "Remembrance" so check it out and R/R when it comes out…)___

2.

She bolted up straight in bed, sweat glistening on her forehead as the duvet cover pooled around her waist. Her breaths came out in gasps as she tried to calm her heart to its normal speed. 

"Syd?" he asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up next to her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She whispered as she caught her breath. "It was just a dream."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Go back to sleep." She gave him a weak smile and laid back down on the pillows.

"Ok." Vaughn replied as he lay down next to her, draping an arm across her waist as he spooned behind her, his face buried in her neck. Sydney let out a small smile as she felt him kiss her neck softly and before she knew it, his breathing had slowed and he relaxed against her as he drifted off into a deep sleep.

Sydney, however, didn't shut her eyes. Every time she did, the images that awoke her flashed across her eye lids like a never ending movie. The blurry lights as they whizzed past, dulled by the black blindfold that itched with every movement. The dream had felt so real that she could feel the touch of a hand, its fingers icy and cold as they ran through her hair, she could hear the rumble and tumble of the noises around her, giving the impression that she was on a fast moving train and the sound of a voice, silky and smooth as it whispered in perfect Italian, though the accent is slightly there, a voice that felt strangely familiar. She didn't understand much about it, it had all gone by so quickly, but she did remember one thing clearly. She, for certain, heard the name Rambaldi.

Sydney spent the night staring at the wall as she willed the images to disappear. The name kept repeating itself over in her head and the woman's voice floated through. The only thing that was any comfort was the stead puffs of air floating on her neck as Vaughn slept behind her, and his arm that was secured around her waist.

When he woke he could tell by her posture that she hadn't slept after waking up and she was defiantly _not_ fine. But he'd known her long enough to know when to let things be, if she wanted to talk about it _she_ would come to _him_. If he pushed, she would only retreat farther back into the recesses of her mind.

Having worked at the CIA for almost a decade had allowed him to develop a morning routine, one that didn't disappear when he began spending his nights at her place. He woke, showered and dressed before making his way to the kitchen where she sat staring absentmindedly into space, a cup of coffee between her hands.

He walked over to her and gently brushed his hand across her arm as he passed on his way to the coffee cup. "Morning." He stated as he poured the coffee.

"Morning." She smiled up at him uncertainly. "Did you sleep ok? I'm really sorry I woke you."

"Don't worry about it. Yeah I slept fine afterwards. I don't have the sleeping problems anymore." He smiled mischievously at her; knowing full well that she knew he had never slept as well as he did when he was with her.

"Good." She whispered as she took a sip of her coffee. He walked over to the counter and leaned against it, looking at her. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just… are you sure you're ok?" He asked hoping to open the door for her to let him know what was going on.

"Yeah. This dream, it just unnerved me, I guess. It was weird."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about really. I was, or I _think_ I was, I'm not sure if it was even me, anyways. I was on a train, blindfolded and this _woman_ was talking to me in Italian about something, I really don't remember and then another voice spoke. It seemed like the other voice was frightened, like a younger female. Anyways, they had a small conversation, I don't remember what about, but then the younger voice said 'Rambaldi' and that's when I woke up." She shrugged her shoulders hesitantly as she looked into her coffee cup as if hoping to see through the dark liquid to the bottom.

He sighed and walked over to her and placed an arm around her shoulders, rubbing up and down her arm as she leaned into him. "You going to be ok today?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." She smiled up at him and leaned to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. 

"Ok." He smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her when her cell phone rang out. "I'm beginning to hate that sound."

She smiled as she walked over to the hallway to retrieve her phone. "Yeah, me too. Hello?"

"Sydney, I need you to come in." Jack's voice sounded from the other line.

"Ok." She replied with a sigh.

"And get a hold of Agent Vaughn, he should be here too."

Kendall typed a few commands into her computer and a picture of a young girl popped on to the screen. She is young, around the same age as Sydney, and her dark brown, almost black, hair sweeps over her shoulders. Her soft features are simply beautiful and her eyes are soulful and dark, making her olive toned skin that much deeper. "Rachele Milia DiCarlo. Born in '77 and orphaned at the age of 17."

"What does anyone want with her?" Sydney questioned as she looked at the picture, something strangely familiar about it.

"Well, DiCarlo wasn't her given name." Jack states as he watches the two agents in front of him examine the picture.

"What was it?" Vaughn asks as he turns to Jack.

"Rambaldi."

Sydney's focus is instantly drawn back to her father as she hears the name. "Derevko." She shakes her head in disbelief as Vaughn's eyes are drawn to hers. "She's in control of the train."

"What makes you say that?" Kendall asks, knowing all to well that she is most likely correct.

"Where you find Rambaldi you find Derevko, and Sloane." She adds the last part quietly as she turns to her father. "When do we leave?"

**TBC…**

**So I hope that this made you want more. Took me forever to get out! I was supposed to have this done a week ago but life got in the way. My chapter's are going to be a little slow in the coming, given that I am now working on two fics (this one and my 4th-quel) and I've never done that before.**

**Hope you enjoyed it and now I throw it back to Jenn. **

**Review please!!**

**Merci,**

**-SAG-**


	3. Chapter Three Jenn

**Mental Break**

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_Well... I tried to write the next chapter. It just wouldn't come so I apologize. I guess I must have had a little mental break myself [hardy har har]_

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Alternating Chapters

Chapter Three: Jenn__

3.

She inched backwards, eyes utterly focused on the glinting metal _things_ that she could not even identify that hung from the woman's hands. She didn't even recognize that these were the same cool hands that had brushed against her fevered brow when she had been lifted, shaking uncontrollably, from the train mere hours before.

She only saw that way that the light above her head made the silver-gray metal sparkle maliciously as the woman, who still had no face to her, inched closer and closer to her side.

Her mouth dropped a little, wanting to cry out in a scream of terror but she found that her vocal chords were no longer under her control. They had already been scared into regression.

"Don't be a fool Rachele," came the words in silky Italian, "don't you realize that by resisting you are only prolonging your stay here?"

She gulped bitter air several times before attempting to speak but her voice still came out dry, brittle with unuse. "I... I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"What you do is no longer your problem._ I will be taking care of everything. You just have to _be_."_

"_Be?_ I don't understand."

There was a soft laughter that came from the darkness that shrouded the woman's' face from view. "You don't need to. People understand so _few_ things truly that this really should have no effect on you."

"Where are we? What are you going to do to me?"

Rachele watched as the woman's' knees slowly lowered, as her whole body leaned in towards the light until the face was in view.

Despite it age, the woman was beautiful with soft flowing brown hair, crinkly eyes and a light smile. They did not seem to fit with her character. She felt a strange twinge deep in the inside of her body as she looked upon this face.  As if it was familiar to her from long ago.

Then again, she didn't remember anything from her childhood any more.

The woman's lips parted and spoke. "You don't remember anything from your past. I'm here to help you remember."

"Help me? This is what you call _helping me???_"

There was a pause.

"Your voice is beginning to take on a tone of hysteria. Don't panic or else you'll overflow your brain synapses and at this point, judging what you have gone through, I think that that would prove very damaging indeed."

Her hand reached forward and landed lightly and as wonderfully as an angel's wing on her fevered forehead.

Her eyes almost rolled from this touch that cooled her down at least slightly.

"How- How are you going to help me remember?"

"I want you to go under regression therapy. It's like hypnosis. It's painless- I've gone through it myself."

"What will happen?"

The woman's eyes focused suddenly on her and Rachele felt a chill running through her body. She now understood how terrifying this woman truly could be. 

"You will remember. And when we are done you will not remember remembering. At that point, when I have all the information I need, you may go back and live the rest of your life."

Tight-lipped, Rachele nodded slowly.

"Good. We'll start tomorrow when you're more rested."

She watched the woman's parting figure and it had just reached the doorway when the voice called out once more. "We're in Casablanca."

**TBC...**

**Back to Secret Agent Girl for more on the S/V side (ooh la la)**


	4. Chapter 4 Secret Agent Girl

**Mental Break**

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Written By **Secret Agent Girl** and **Jennifer** ~

Alternating Chapters

_When a young woman is discovered to be the key to the Rambaldi mystery, she is suddenly taken deep into a world that she has nearly forgotten; one filled with mental games and the most complex mystery to ever surface. She knows it all. If only she could remember._

**Chapter Four: SAG**

4. 

She leaned against the cushioned airplane seats, thankful that for once the CIA had splurged for a comfortable plane. She sighed deeply as she ran a hand through her hair, trying to clear her mind and relax; hoping the headache would leave on its own.

How had things gotten so screwed up? Just two years ago she had been a young graduate student. She was dating a wonderful guy, a doctor even. She had great friends. She was working for people and thought she was making a difference in the world (for the better not worse). Everything was great. Yeah, her relationship with her father wasn't the greatest, but that can sometimes happen when your mother dies when you are only 6.

Now, she was sitting on a plane, going after said mother, trying to stop her from destroying someone else's life and bringing about the works of a man who had died 500 years before.

He looked up from the report in front of him and watched as she collapsed against the seat. He knew every part of this mission was being help on a personal level for her and it broke his heart to see her so distressed.

He stood up and walked over to her, collapsing in the seat next to her and slipping his hand around hers as it rested on the arm rest.

"You ok?" He asked softly, shaking her out of her reservoir.

"Hmm? Yeah. It's just…" She trailed off as she closed her eyes and sighed.

"Just what?" he prodded, lightly running his thumb over her hand.

"My mom, Sloane, this whole thing. I just want it to be over with." She leaned deep into the cushions and turned her face to face him. "I want to finish this."

"I know." Vaughn sighed as he leaned back to be eye level with her.

"When this is all over, I want to just, get away from this all. Like take a leave of absence and go someplace I've never been."

"Yeah? Like where?" 

"New Hampshire."

"New Hampshire?" He laughed lightly. "You've never been?"

"Nope. Francie has family there, like a hour outside of Boston, and she loves it and I've always meant to go, but with work I never could. Apparently its nice there."

"Well, when this is over maybe you and I could…"

"Sydney." Vaughn was cut off as Jack approached and sat down opposite them.

The two instantly sat up straighter and unclasped their hands as Jack began to lay out the plan for their arrival.

"Do we know where the train was headed?" Vaughn asked as he flitered in all the new information.

"Morocco. Casablanca to be exact." Jack replied.

"What could they possibly want there?" Sydney questioned as she ran through every possibility in her head.

"That seems to be the million dollar question." Jack replied as he watched his daughter sigh again and sag back into the seat. "We shouldn't be there for another few hours or so. Why don't you get some sleep." He suggested as Sydney nodded and he stood making his way back to his seat.

"Your dad is right Syd, get some sleep." Vaughn coerced as he stood, brushing his hand across hers softly as he made his way back towards Jack.

Sydney nodded and pushed back her chair, pulling the pillow to lean against the window. Closing her eyes she was surprised at how fast she drifted off to sleep.

Images whirled around in her head, playing across her eyelids like a film playing on fast forward. She could feel the cold around her, the touch on her skin as the cool fingers raked though her hair, across her cheek. Every touch was flared across her skin, igniting it and cooling it all at the same time. The cool voice chilled her to her very core. Everything about the images was unsettling. 

The woman began to pull at the blindfold. Unfolding it from her eyes. Her fingers playing across her cheek were cold and sent shivers down her spine. She jumped at the feel of them on her wrist.

"Rambaldi."

"Your real name."

"Rachele… Rachele Milia Rambaldi."

"Regression therapy…painless…I've gone through it."

The fingers reached over to her again and gripped her arm.

Sydney bolted up in her chair, sweat pouring down her face as she felt a hand fall on her wrist.

"Syd? Are you ok?" Vaughn's eyes were full of concern as he looked at her.

"I know what she wants."

**TBC…**

**Sorry for the major delay…life got in the way!**

**Back to Jenn!**


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